The Huntsman and the Prince
by EmpyreanSun
Summary: While walking through the woods Eric comes across Hal defending an elderly man from bandits. He steps in to help the prince without knowing who he actually is and is hurt defending him. From that moment they are linked. Bromance for now.
1. Chapter 1

Prince Hal Huntsman Crossover

Chapter One – Collide

Eric heard the sharpened tones of raised voices before he saw the men. The woods on either side rose up and framed the dirt-track road, so his eyes were instantly drawn to the group at the top of the slight incline he was walking up.

Five burly men surrounded two others. They outweighed the smaller party in both height and bulk. Each one sported a straggly beard and dirty, stained clothing, as well as a sword or spear.

Weapons designed for short distance encounter and close combat. Every aspect of them suggested bandits.

The other party, by comparison, consisted of a tall, lean young man, and white-haired elderly man supporting himself on a cane. Both were well dressed, and the Huntsman mused that he could probably buy himself a year's worth of mead for the price of that cane. Nobles.

His suspicions were confirmed when he came close enough to hear the younger man speak.

"He has borne you no harm. Why, then, do you deign not to let him pass?"

The tallest of the five, with dark black hair, spoke up.

"Nay, 'e has not harmed us outwardly, but our pride at crossing paths with such a finely dressed gentleman in these rags has been wounded. Per'aps 'e would care to offer us some compensation?"

"What you are engaging in here is illegal. This is just a glorified looting."

The young man glared at them intently. His hair was a unique shade between auburn and brown and fell into loose curls around his head. This, complimented by light blue eyes, meant that he was quite striking to look at. Even without the glaring. He seemed familiar from somewhere.

"With the highest respect, _my lord, _we had already engaged this man before you arrived. The fates' design for you to walk this path resulted in your involvement."

"My involvement may just be your undoing." The younger man countered, his hand nearing the hilt of his dagger.

Eric could see that his desire to step in and help a stranger, though noble, was going to lead to a right where he was outnumbered five to one.

He could still turn back and avoid being a part of this, but for some reason he scuffed a few stones with his boot extra loudly as he walked, making all seven heads look along to him.

He carried on walking at a steady pace, making eye contact with the black-haired one, who was clearly in charge, to show he didn't fear them.

The bandit turned to face the Huntsman; his eyes narrowed, stance confrontational.

"If you have any sense, you will continue on your way and put what you saw here out of your mind."

The Huntsman was now directly in front of the other man. He slowed to a standstill, levelling his gaze into steel-grey eyes.

"I don't like being told what I can and cannot do." He replied coldly. "If _you had any sense _you would not have tried to do so."

Eric's hand was hovering over one of the hatchets tucked into his belt. His opponent's own hand was at the hilt of his sword. The tension surrounding them was palpable.

The Huntsman had not always been so ready to defend others. But recently that had changed. There was just something about this young man. Eric knew not whether it was kindness, loyalty, or something else, but he was not about to let him die.

The bandit seemed to consider the Huntsman for a moment, taking in his height and muscular physique, before mustering: "Interesting choice of weapon. You would make a powerful ally, if you happened to conclude that you preferred gold over death."

The offer was clear-cut. Eric made a small growl at the back of his throat. They were trying to buy his co-operation. Before the Huntsman could share his distaste at their lack of decency, the blue-eyed man beat him to it.

"You are unwise enough to try and best a man far your senior, and now you try to dishonour an honest man. Is your depravity boundless?"

Eric admired his bravado, but he had seen enough tavern brawls to know what was coming next.

The leader, with an infuriated snarl drew his sword and swung before the younger man, armed only with his dagger, had time to draw it.

There was a screeching clash of metal on metal as Eric stepped in front of the slighter man to protect him, his hatchet meeting his opponent's sword. The Huntsman's decision to defend the other man wasn't an entirely conscious one; his body had reacted with his brain half a step behind. Now there was no option left but to fight.

The young man seemed to be thinking this too, as with a quiet word to the fellow with the cane about staying further back, he drew his weapon. They shared a brief understanding through a glance before charging towards the enemy, who met them wholeheartedly.

Eric was swinging and parrying, hatchets spinning, and he had taken down two of the five before he spared a glance towards his companion in the fight. Despite having a much smaller weapon than his two adversaries, there was a seasoned skill about his fighting style, and a look in his eye that suggested a desire for justice.

This moment off-guard, however, was Eric's undoing. The leader sprang at the Huntsman and pinned him to the ground sending one of his hatchets spiralling away through the rough dead leaves lining the ground. They wrestled vehemently, each giving the other wounds from trying to gain the upper hand.

The Huntsman was on top of his foe, grabbing for his weapon to end their conflict, when a shout from across the dirt track that had become their fighting arena diverted his attention. The auburn-haired man seemed to be in trouble.

The bandit, as seemed to be his devious nature, took the moment to knock Eric down with a swift hit to the temple from the butt of his sword. Momentarily dazed, the Huntsman could do nothing as the other man pinned him down again. He raised his sword with one hand, the other wrapped around Eric's neck, and then all Eric knew was darkness.

Coming to his senses was like wandering through a wood enshrouded with mist. His hearing seemed dull and he could only feel a vague sensation of the ground beneath him. Attempting to open his eyes was also difficult. Someone was moving around next to him.

Suddenly he remembered what had taken place.

Eric's eyes snapped open and he shot upright, instinctively grabbing the hatchet closest to him and swinging it round so it was flush to the neck of the man kneeling beside him.

It was not the enemy he had been expecting.

The lean, auburn-haired man stared back at him, hands frozen above the wound he was tending to and pale blue eyes staring straight at the Huntsman.

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	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two - Acquaintance

The Huntsman found himself staring into the eyes of the young man he had fought alongside. They were wide with surprise, but not fear, and even more luminous than before.

He kept his hands placed where Eric could see them as though tending to an injured animal.

"I mean you no harm friend." He glanced down to the hatchet pointed at his throat.

"Then why do you kneel over me like a victor?"

"I was tending to your wounds. You received three in the skirmish."

Eric looked down and noticed several strips of cloth acting as bandages.

"What happened?" He asked lowering the weapon. The man before him also lowered his hands.

"From what I could see you received the most serious wound, the one to your shoulder, whilst grappling on the ground with your foe. I vanquished mine own just as yours gained the upper hand. Upon seeing this I stepped in before he could deliver a fatal blow."

At this point the man blushed, realising he had been talking about his own perspective for the last few moments.

He continued quickly, "We fought only momentarily, with him wounding me lightly, before I dealt him a conclusive blow."

He paused for a moment, gauging the Huntsman's surprise.

"Then I owe you my life." Eric responded. "Tell me, what is your name?"

"Hal." The other man responded, a smile gracing his features.

"I am Eric. I owe you a debt of gratitude Hal."

"You owe me far less than you think, for you were the one who stepped in to help our cause."

Eric looked round, remembering the old man.

"What became of your companion?"

"Oh I did not know him personally. I merely chanced upon him when walking that path. He was being troubled by those men so I stepped in to his defence. You came across us not five minutes later. He was travelling the road to the next village at Stampton Heath. I sent him on his way before more trouble could elapse. He insisted I take this though." He produced a small vial of yellow-tinged liquid. It was almost half empty. "For your wounds. He said it was the only payment he could give as thanks."

"It must be working well because I feel fine- agh!" Eric winced as he tried to sit up.

"You must move slowly," Hal said laying his hand on the Huntsman's chest and gently pushing back down, "the wound to your shoulder seems quite deep."

Eric complied gradually. He was not used to being told what to do, but Hal seemed genuinely concerned. The Huntsman was a very guarded person, so he had not fully decided to trust the other man yet. The hatchet he had aimed at Hal's throat lay close by on the ground if he needed it.

"What other afflictions did I receive?" He asked after propping his head back on what he realised was Hal's jacket.

"Aside from the one to your shoulder, there seems to be a flesh wound on your right side and a gash to your leg. The shoulder is the most serious."

"They will heal quickly." Eric brushed off his concern. "You mentioned an injury of your own?"

"Oh." Hal looked like he had momentarily forgotten this. He lifted up his left palm, which was wrapped in a pale green strip of cloth.

"My opponents were not nearly as skilled as yours." He murmured looking down.

"Or perhaps you were much more adept at avoiding blows than I."

Hal looked up with a small smile to see the corner of Eric's mouth curling good-naturedly. He didn't know it yet, but this was the equivalent of a grin from the Huntsman. He was grateful to the brunette for lightening his mood.

"Whichever is true, its severity pales in comparison to yours. How do you feel?"

Eric shuffled slightly, trying to assess that for himself.

"Sore, light-headed."

Hal offered him water and helped him sit up before continuing.

"I doubt you will be able to travel far tonight. Where were you heading?"

"You ask a great many questions." Eric grumbled, his rich Scottish accent making the comment come across sharper than he had intended.

Hal smiled, unperturbed.

"I am of a curious disposition."

Eric relaxed his brow and glanced at the oak trees surrounding them.

"I was travelling the road to Hawthorpe, before going north from there to Millsbrook."

Hal's eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

"But that is almost eight leagues from here. By what day did you intend to arrive?"

"Four days from now. I can still make it."

For the first time Hal looked alarmed. "You cannot be serious about travelling that distance with these injuries? You need at least three day's rest, then perhaps five more to complete the journey." His blue irises seemed to become liquid with worry.

Eric turned back to the man kneeling next to him, expression stony.

"I'll send a message on ahead, but I still intend to be there four days from now."

Hall leaned forward, and his expression told Eric that he intended to reason with him.

"What could possibly be so important that you must jeopardize your own health?" He asked earnestly.

"That is my own concern." Was Eric's short reply.

Hal leaned back looking mildly downtrodden. He was silent for a moment before his expression became open and honest.

"I myself was travelling to Hawthorpe, but if you insist upon arriving in Millsbrook in four days, I will accompany you there."

"I do not need a companion." Eric huffed. "I have faced worse injuries before now."

Hal leaned toward him again. "You saved my life. I do not take that lightly and will not allow you to throw your own away as a consequence. Bandits like those are not uncommon in these parts. If you were to be set upon again how would you defend yourself?"

Eric found himself leaning back slightly, eyes almost innocently wide with surprise at Hal's sudden urgency. Hal then realised he was only inches from the other man's face and checked himself, moving back and blushing.

"My apologies. My conduct is simply a result of my wish to make the journey with you. I was to be travelling the same road anyway."

Eric considered him for a moment, holding his gaze, before nodding his assent.

"Alright. If you wish to travel with me then do so. But only so far as Hawthrope since that was your original destination. I will be healed enough to make the rest of the journey to Millsbrook alone."

"Agreed." Hal said, smiling once again. "Now perhaps we should rest for the night. I will take the watch for a while."

Eric nodded and lay slowly back down. Hal settled himself in a sitting position with his back against the uneven bark of a tree. As he glanced back at the other man he found chocolate-brown eyes tracing his own.

"Thank you." The Huntsman said quietly, before closing his eyes.

The younger man watched him until his breathing became slow and rhythmic. Hal sensed that Eric still didn't entirely trust him and yet he had put aside his pride and thanked him. He felt guilt well inside him, descending on his heart through his veins. This man had saved his life, at a cost too, and he couldn't even put aside his own pride to tell him who he truly was. Was it pride though? It certainly wasn't fear or shame. More like caution.

After all, the Crown was not without enemies, and thus so was the heir to the throne; Henry of Monmouth. _Prince _Hal_._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three – Fragile Trust

Eric awoke the next morning to the sun drifting through large holes in the interlaced leaves overhead. He kept his eyes shut to enjoy the lingering summer warmth it held. For a moment nothing hurt and he could feel no hint of cool air.

As he slowly opened his eyes and pushed himself up on one elbow something thick slid off his chest. Hal's jacket. He must have moved it to cover Eric whilst he was sleeping. It was getting harder and harder to distrust him.

The Huntsman looked across to the auburn-haired who had slumped down from the position he had last seen him; his head lolled to one side. He looked even younger in sleep, perhaps from the dreams that were filtering away any conscious worries or thoughts.

Eric perceived a small yet insistent tremble coming from the man, and wondered if he was having a nightmare rather than a dream. When he looked closer, however, he realised it was a shiver. Having given his jacket to Eric, Hal had only a thin cotton shirt covering his torso. Although the sun was warm, he was sitting in the shaded patch of a tall oak, receiving no comfort from its rays.

The thought suddenly graced Eric's mind that Hal was supposed to be on guard. For a moment he was tempted to walk over and shake Hal awake in annoyance, but looking across at the sleeping man, he found that the desire to do so quickly dissipated. The glade, while not too far from the main path, was shaded and secluded. Hal had chosen well. Eric also understood the exhaustion that came from travelling from days on end.

The Huntsman stopped himself abruptly. He was making excuses for the other man. If Hal had been tired he could have woken Eric up to take over the watch. They had fought several hours ago – enough time for other bandits to come looking for the ones that had gone missing. They could have easily been set upon and killed. Hal had endangered both their lives with his carelessness.

Thoughts of why Eric travelled alone and remained distrustful of others came flooding back. He eased himself into a sitting position, quickly checking the bandages over his wounds. The one around his shoulder had been soaked through a little by blood which had turned it dry and crusty. Fuelled by his irritation, he moved into a standing position, ignoring the slight dizziness, and stumbled off down the valley in search of fresh water.

The slope was gentle at first but grew steeper the further he walked. Eric was too annoyed to remain watchful of his footsteps, which were growing louder and louder, or the gradient of the hill.

Water always ran downhill to congregate at the bottom in the form of a river or lake so Eric knew he was heading the right way. The damp smell in the air told him he was close too.

He couldn't believe he had been foolish enough to trust Hal, who was no woodsman. Eric's thoughts wondered back to Hal's status. He probably was a noble. They were, most of them, imprudent enough to think others wouldn't attack them because of their high rank. Hal's youth meant naivety. He was probably used to a soft, comfortable bed. Not bark for a pillow.

As he released this last thought his footing caught on a cluster of small stones, and having not regained enough strength to right himself, he tumbled the rest of the way down the bank. Eric's body only stopped rolling when the land flattened out.

As he caught his breath and turned his head, he noticed that he had found the river. He was less than four inches from falling in.

He scooped up several handfuls of fresh water then lay on his back, assessing if he had done any more damage. Apart from a slight ache in his lower back he felt the same as before. Sitting up, he wondered what it was that had tripped him. He was snapped abruptly from his reverie when two things happened at once.

Hal came skidding down the hill asking after his welfare and a low growl drew his attention across the river. A grey wolf stood on the opposite bank, its teeth bared into a vicious snarl, and legs tensed ready to spring.

Eric recognised the species as one he had previously hunted through a different forest. They were increasingly sensitive to movement and took it as a sign of attack.

Eric turned quickly to Hal to warn him as he neared the bottom of the bank.

"Hal wait-" Was all he managed before the creature sprang onto a rock in the middle of the river, and then launched itself straight toward the auburn-haired man.

A sharp intake of breath was the only sound Hal could emit and then the wolf was upon him, snapping at his arms which were raised in front of his face in defence.

It knocked him straight into a cluster of leaves and its claws began to sink through the material of his shirt.

Hal gasped, desperately trying to shake it off, and Eric grappled for his hatchets. The animal suddenly changed tactic and Hal let out a cry of pain as it sunk its fangs into his leg.

The Huntsman knew this type liked to drag its prey off before killing it, and swung his hatchets mercilessly before it could do so. The first struck it in the neck and the second landed just above its leg. With practiced ease he used these two holds to throw it off and away from Hal.

It yelped pitifully before limping around and snarling at Eric. The hunter and the hunted circled each other. The wolf rapidly pounced and Eric uncurled his arm like a viper, sinking the chosen hatchet into the creature's heart. It growled once more in the spiritless manner of a beaten soul, before dropping to the ground.

Eric yanked his weapon out unceremoniously, taking little notice of the blood growing around the wolf. He walked over and quickly knelt next to Hal, who was sitting curled around his leg, attempting to stop the flow of blood.

"Let me see." He said quietly.

Hal looked up, the shock of what had just happened still lingering on his young face. He complied and Eric peeled back the cloth to inspect it.

"It is not too deep but we will need to wash it lest it become infected. Can you stand?"

"I'm not sure." For the first time since Eric had met him, Hal seemed lost.

Deciding it was the easiest option; Eric picked him up with one arm behind his knees, and the other supporting his shoulders, and walked the rest of the way to the water. For someone as tall as the Huntsman, Hal was surprisingly light.

He sat the blue-eyed man on the water's edge and tested the current of the river. It was weak and unexpectedly shallow, so he took off his shirt and stood waist deep cleaning the wound. Hal made vague hissing noises and eventually regained his voice enough to thank Eric.

Eric gruffly brushed him aside and explained how he knew the wolf would attack at the slightest movement. Hal nodded, quiet in thought for a moment whilst Eric wrapped a strip of cloth around his leg.

"I awoke when I heard you fall. Why did you come down here?" He said suddenly.

Eric looked away, his prior annoyance tainting his current sympathy towards the younger man.

"I was thirsty. I also wanted somewhere to collect my thoughts after I realised you had left us unguarded the whole night. I fell when I tripped over something half way down."

Hal had a knowing look on his face instead of the sheepish one the Huntsman had expected.

"I did not leave us unprotected my friend. As I felt the weight of the day drawing closed my eyes, I strung up a perimeter of string in a thread in a square around our camp. If anyone came close, it would have tugged on my wrist where it was tied as they tripped. I believe that was what caused your fall, and woke me."

Eric glared at him for a moment, then his expression softened.

"It seems I misjudged you." He murmured almost begrudgingly. "I took you for an arrogant noble, but perhaps you are just an honest man."

Hal chuckled. "Something like that." He then seemed to notice Eric's bare torso. "Your shoulder would seems to have reopened." He stated frowning.

Eric grunted peeling back the layers of make shift bandage. He bathed it and redressed the wound, ignoring Hal's offers of help.

"It will need stitches." He announced whilst looking up the bank in the direction of the main road. "We should try to make it to Stampton Heath by nightfall. We can stay off the main road for now and meet back up with it later. Do you have the ointment?"

Hal produced the tincture and they each let some of it seep through their bandages. Since Hal was adamant he could walk, they climbed back up the bank and collected the few belongings that remained there. The two then set off on what they did not yet know was going to be an eventful venture.

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	4. Chapter 4

A/N – Hello again. Sorry for the huge gap between chapters, but I have less work for Uni at the moment so I'm getting back in tune with my stories and hopefully there'll be lots more updates to come. Thanks to everyone who's stuck with the story in the lapse of time between chapters and thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed – especially recently as that's what motivated me to write this next chapter. So please don't be afraid to bug me about updating – it honestly helps as sometimes I need a little nudge.

Not too pleased about the chapter title for this one, but my mind decided not to invent anything better at quarter past midnight. If any of you have any ideas you feel are more suitable then feel free to hit me with them. I'll probably read it again tomorrow and possibly make changes or rework the title then. Happy reading!

Chapter Four - Progress

As the day wore on the two men continued their journey to the village in companionable silence. Though it was just over a league away, both their injuries slowed them considerably. As Hal began to lag behind more and more, Eric eventually, without a word, put the younger man's arm around his shoulders. They carried on from there at a quicker pace and reached Stampton Heath before sundown.

Hal suggested an inn he knew and, with little fuss, paid for two rooms for them. Eric was still uncertain about Hal's status and this display of money set him wondering again. The man obviously had money to spare. But he used it in such a quiet, inconspicuous manner that the Huntsman wondered if he was trying to hide something.

It could be hard-earned. But few village workers dressed like Hal. For now Eric decided not to press the issue. When he had offered payment, Hal simply said that it was the least he could do, and that it was perfectly fair. The last comment seemed cryptic to the brunette, but he had already chosen not to press the matter.

He helped the other man past several drunkards chortling amongst themselves. One of them suddenly yelled out that he recognised Hal.

"I am sorry my friend, but I believe you may be mistaken. I don't recall ever having met." Hal replied with a pitying smile.

They ascended the stairs without further accusations and Eric left Hal at his door. He lay down on the straw-bristling bed and let a smothering weariness wash over him for a few moments. Hal had acted as unconcerned as anyone else would have been in the same situation. But Eric knew that the truth could sometimes out in a drunken haze. It was possible the man may have been telling the truth.

He sat up before this thought could be allowed to fester. There were more important things he could be occupying these moments with than letting his curiosity swarm. His injuries needed tending to and his shoulder especially couldn't wait.

The huntsman took off his shirt and left it at the bottom of the bed. He paced the small room a little, rotating his injured shoulder gently to test its stiffness. He found a pail of cold, clean water at the foot of the bed which he decided to use to wash his wounds properly. While the river water had been fresh well water was preferable.

He began to peel away the bandages a second time, using the misted glass of the window as a mirror when there was a knock at the door. Quiet but firm. Eric tensed immediately on instinct; he wasn't expecting any visitors.

He prowled over to the door and listened for a heartbeat before unlocking it and pulling it ajar. Hal stood on the other side. Relaxing perceptibly, Eric asked him what he wanted.

"I brought you the remaining salve and some fresh cloths I procured from the innkeeper."

The huntsman opened the door wide enough for him to enter. The younger man placed the bottle on the wooden stand next to the bed, and the make-shift bandages in the bed itself next to Eric's discarded shirt. The other man had gone back to inspecting his wounds at the window.

Upon noticing the shirt, the reality that Eric was half naked hit him suddenly making him blush indiscernibly. The shock and pain had dazed him at the river and he hadn't really noticed that the huntsman was shirtless.

Now, as his eyes drew patterns across the broad, muscular back before him, he realised with a jolt, and turned away quickly to hide the unexpected hue of his cheeks. There was a wooden chair next to the door so he seated himself upon it and attempted to re-fasten the bandage around his hand.

"I did not wish to intrude; I simply wished to give you these aids and again express my gratitude for your actions. Not many would have dared take on a wild animal like that. You have my deepest thanks."

"You forget I am a huntsman. I am used to dealing with creatures like that."

"Even among you there are few with admirable skill."

Eric sensed that Hal was trying to give him a compliment, but his shoulder was burning and he was in no good mood to receive it with grace.

"Fewer still if you are not more careful next time."

The silence that met his response gave him a momentary satisfaction before he regretted his words. In the hope of burying them he continued; "Something about that wolf troubled me though."

He turned as he said this and reached for the pail, picking up one of the strips of cloth and dipping it in the cool water. Eric found Hal watching him with a questioning look on his face so he clarified.

"I've hunted that type before in a forest much further north than here. That one was a long way from home."

Hal displayed a half shrug, leaning back in his chair and attempting to adjust his bandage again.

"They travel alone for three seasons of the year but reform into packs in the spring to mate. For that reason they never venture south of Denwood."

The unspoken knowledge between them, that Denwood was at least fifteen leagues north of their current location, made Hal raise the question he knew they were both curious about.

"If that is indeed the case, what was it doing here?"

"I do not know. Its whereabouts make little sense. There is less of the hilly terrain they are used to here which means less cover, and worse hunting conditions." Eric stretched out the new bandages as he said this, beginning to wind them round his shoulder.

"Perhaps it was simply lost?"

"That is unlikely. They have the most impeccable sense of direction of all their species."

"Then it is certainly strange."

Eric was now endeavouring to tie the bandages in the nook of his shoulder blade without much success. His arm had stiffened considerably from blood loss and swelling to the same shoulder.

"May I?" Hal offered from his position by the door.

Eric turned towards him, not quite subduing the wary look in his eyes before nodding once in ascent. Hal left his perch and Eric sat on the edge of the bed so he was better positioned. He tied the bandages carefully into position where Eric's hands had been unable to reach, feeling tense sinewy muscle beneath them.

Eric thanked him and Hal turned toward the door.

"We should both rest if you still intend to venture further tomorrow." The auburn-haired man said, his hand reaching for the oak door.

"Do you not wish me to fix that properly for you?"

"Fix what?" Hal asked turning back to see Eric pulling on a fresh shirt.

"The bandage on your hand. You have been fiddling with it ever since you arrived."

Hal looked down at his palm, having forgotten about the slight wound after their conversation about the wolf.

"Actually I would be most grateful."

Eric stood before him and undid the knots, noting the deep slide that ran across the other man's palm. He discarded the old green cloth and selected a new one from the small pile still left on the bed.

"One made from thinner material should make it itch less, and if you tie it like this it will not chafe."

He held the other man's hand in both of his as he finished working then let go.

There was a moment of uncertain but companionable silence between the two before Hal offered his thanks again.

"Do not thank me when I was already in your debt," Eric returned simply, "and take this. It was given to you and will be better kept by you."

He threw the small bottle from his new position next to the stand across to Hal who caught it adeptly. As the younger man closed the old door with a whining creak Eric looked back to the place he had just been standing. His instincts, which had become minutely attuned over time, warned him there was something amiss with Hal. But the other man seemed so openly genuine that it was increasingly difficult to brazenly doubt him. The question was, should Eric trust his instincts more than he trusted the other man?


End file.
